


Victory March

by katillac



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1991091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katillac/pseuds/katillac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been years since Emmeline Vance attended Hogwarts, but she could still remember as though it were just yesterday. She could remember each of her teachers, and all the time she spent on homework. She could remember the stories of Lord Voldemort, which back in those days, seemed like mere horror stories. And then she remembered him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 12 Grimmauld Place

Emmeline’s heart felt heavy within her chest as she stood outside the hidden building, not quite trusting herself to enter. As a member of the Ministry, entering a household that was knowingly harboring a fugitive could cost her more than just her job. She wasn’t as concerned about that at the moment, though.   
  
She was more concerned about her heart.  
  
Other members of the Advanced Guard were dismounting their brooms, all looking rather windblown as they gazed up at the almost ancient looking building before them. The boy was officially delivered, and their job was completed. Molly Weasley had offered them each something to eat and drink to help them warm up before they left, which was exactly what Emmeline was afraid of. She couldn’t be the only member of the Guard to object, especially when even Mad-Eye Moody himself was welcoming a break from the cold.  
  
This was it, though.  
  
12 Grimmauld Place.  
  
His home.  
  
Emmeline knew this fact wouldn’t have bothered her so much if it weren’t for who the house occupied. She’d waltz right in with the rest of them, and listen to their balmy jokes as they downed some tea. Merlin, she might even join in, if she could think of anything witty enough. But not here. Slowly, she dismounted from her broom, taking it in hand as soon as her feet were both firmly in place on the ground. Her eyes were glued to the house before her.  
  
Sirius Black was inside there right this minute. He could be peeking out from one of the dreadfully dark curtains, or waiting just inside the doorway. Did he even know she was a member of the Guard? It hadn’t exactly been one of her aspirations growing up. But for all she knew, he might not even remember her anymore. It was all so long ago…  
  
“Get in here, Vance, before you freeze your arse off out here,” Mad-Eye appeared in the doorway, a purple mug in his hand, a permanent grimace plastered to his face. To anyone else, this man might have looked like the type to wrestle trolls, or take down five Death Eaters all on his own. Which actually, he just might be able to do. But to Emmeline, the old man standing in the doorway with the colorful cup was nothing more than just that- a man. One who cared about all the members of his team, despite what others might think.  
  
She obeyed, heading up the stairs to the entrance. The house was horrid looking on the outside. It was dark, with shingles missing, looking as though it could cave in at any moment. And the inside didn’t look much better. On first glance, with the peeling wallpaper and the dry, rotting wood, only one word could come to mind. Death. The house seemed to her to have died a long time ago along with the rest of the Black family. The door closed behind her, and Mad Eye gestured towards one of the various rooms.  
  
Despite the houses deathly appearance, she could hear the liveliness of it even from the parlor. There were voices everywhere. From upstairs, coming from behind clothes doors, and especially from the direction Mad-Eye was leading her in. She could only imagine how wound up Diddle and Doge would be by the time they left. For two old men, they'd remind you of teenage girls in the way they gossiped.   
  
The old auror led her into a room that had the same deteriorating look as the parlor had. There was an abnormally long table in the middle of it, where several of the members of the guard were scattered around. Colorful mugs of tea were scattered about the table, along with what looked to be bat-winged cookies. Shacklebolt sat at the head of the table, helping himself to them while Doge went on reliving their flight in over dramatic details.  
  
"Help yourself," The deep voice came from behind, and Emmeline jumped, her heart feeling a though it skipped countless beats as she turned to see who spoke. When she saw it wasn't Sirius, her shoulders drooped slightly in relief. Instead, it was his companion, and her fellow Guard member Remus Lupin. Since leaving Privet Drive, this was the first word he had spoken to her.  
  
She offered him a small, tight smile, but the tension between the two was still there. It had been, even before the incident. Her hand twitched slightly against her will, and she resisted the urge to touch the disfiguring scar along her left cheekbone. It had been several years, but the mark was still there, clear as day. She could see his face flicker slightly, glancing down from her gaze before meeting it again.  
  
There was always something in his eyes that let her know how regretful he was. Remus had never liked her, but he never would have wished her any harm, and she knew this. Still, memories of the night lingered within her mind, and she couldn't deny that she was the tiniest bit afraid of him.  
  
"I'm not all that hungry, thank you," She said, glancing back to the table. She glanced back to the table, considering sitting down and giving her legs a moment to rest. At the exact same moment, though, through the open door she could hear the sound of footsteps heading down the stairs. Not so much walking as they were trudging, loudly and quickly down the stairs. Hardly anyone turned at the sound, in such a busy house, but Emmeline's heart all but stopped in her chest.   
  
The thudding within her chest felt almost in sync with the sound of the footsteps. They were so familiar to her, almost as if time had went back about sixteen years ago. Back then there wasn't anything wrong with his footsteps making her heart go haywire. Now, though, things were much more complicated.  
  
There were so many emotions coursing through her. Guilt, remorse, longing... Her stomach was uneasy, and she hated the thought of having to face him with such a passion she shut her eyes, and kept them closed while listening. Heavier and heavier the footsteps grew, until finally they reached the open doorway behind her. Emmeline was certain the other members of the Guard could hear her heart.  
  
Remus still stood beside her, but he half turned at the sound of his friend, standing up straighter. The other people in the group kept talking, and once Emmeline opened her green eyes, she could see a couple members of the group looked slightly uncomfortable. They prattled on, nonetheless. Emmeline's gaze met Mad-Eye's, and his good eye was focused while the other one flitted around. He kept silent, though. For such a coarse old man, he was very perceptive.  
  
He was in the room.  
  
She didn't know what to do. She felt like a teenager all over again. Should she look straight ahead, or glance back at him? Would he approach her? Does he resent her? Before she could sort through all of her thoughts, she heard another set of footsteps. They were lighter, followed by the sound of a woman's voice.  
  
"Ronald, I don't care what that man says, we will discuss this later," She snapped, sounding as though she were in the doorway. Emmeline couldn't stop herself this time. She glanced back just in time to see the short woman glaring up at Sirius. "Honestly, he's only just arrived and you're already filling his head with thoughts of the order? Give him time to spend with his friends! Let him get comfortable! He's a boy, Sirius. I think the Order should discuss this before you make promises you cant keep."  
  
That's right, he was the boy's godfather. Sirius wasn't looking in her direction, yet rather staring down at who Emmeline knew to be Molly Weasley. His lips were in a thin line, spread across his face. Oh, his face. Emmeline couldn't tear her gaze away. He looked much older, indeed. His hair was longer than she could ever remember seeing it, and didn't look as though he were taking care of it the way he used to. He must not have shaved for a long while, either, for along his jawline sat a tangle of black hairs.  
  
Bags were under his eyes, and wrinkles had formed where Emmeline could remember his smooth skin being. He was so different, but she could still see the remnants of the Sirius Black she used to know.  
  
“Rubbish. Harry has questions, and after all he's been through, I think we could all agree he deserves some answers.” His voice was deeper than it had once been, now the voice of a man, rather than the teenagers they had once been. His voice rang out loud and clear, unashamed to be bickering with the old woman in the presence of the Advanced Guard. He didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable some of the members grew, nor how the room was now quieter than it had been moments ago. Before Mrs. Weasley was given the chance to speak, Sirius's eyes scanned over the room before landing on Remus, and almost instantly his expression brightened.  
  
It was with a heavy heart Emmeline noticed he'd looked right over her.  
  
She didn't know what she had been expecting. He probably didn't remember her, or at the very least, didn't recognize her. Spending the last sixteen years in Azkaban for the death of his closest friends, he probably didn't think too much about the girls he flirted around with once at Hogwarts. It didn't feel right to her, not to be remembered. Not after all that they had been through. But suddenly, she felt rather embarrassed at having thought otherwise. And, undeniably, she was hurt.  
  
“Remus! Good to see you!” He said, jovially, pulling his friend into a rather large embrace. Remus let out a good, soft laugh, returning the hug before pulling away.  
  
“And you as well, Sirius. It's only been about...” He pretended to mull over it a minute before speaking again, with the sort of grin Emmeline could only ever remember him wearing when he was with his friends. “A good seven or so hours? Does that sound about right?”  
  
Sirius chuckled, “Quite right.”  
  
The boys continued talking, mainly about how the ride had went, and she heard Harry's name dropped quite a few times. She tuned them out after a moment or so, focusing more on her own thoughts. The entirety of the mission had been to deliver Harry Potter to 12 Grimmauld place, as quickly, quietly, and safely as they could. But she couldn't deny that a great deal of the reason behind her role in the mission had been so that she could see him. Even if just one more time, as if seeing him would make her feel all the better about what happened so many years ago.  
  
The only problem was that she didn't feel any better. If anything, she felt even worse, because he hadn't even acknowledged her. Nibbling on the corner of her lip as she remained invested in her thoughts, she didn't notice the older man approach her until he reached out, his calloused hand brushing against her elbow. She glanced over, not quite surprised but still not expecting it. Mad-Eye stood before her, offering her an ugly yellow mug filled with the same tea everyone else had been drinking.  
  
“Why don't you come join the rest of us?” He asked, his voice just as gruff as it always was. Still, the look on his face showed that he understood some of what she was thinking, even without words. She nodded, curtly, following him back to the empty seat between his own and Diddle's. The balmy jokes were starting back up once more, although much quieter than before, and Emmeline listened, forcing a small smile occasionally.  
  
Sirius didn't even glance at her.


	2. The Duelists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I should mention, this story will alternate between the present, and the past. Also, Professor Toothill's name is pronounced 'too-thill', and not 'toot-hill', haha. Any feedback would be very much appreciated!

Emmeline was gripping her wand so tightly her knuckles were nearly white, and she couldn't stop her gaze from flickering in the direction of the rowdy Gryffindors every few minutes. She'd been dreading this day for about a week now, ever since the announcement that their classes would be combined was made, and the feeling had only intensified, coiling into an uncomfortable knot within the pit of her stomach.  
  
They were all merely second years, and although the thought should have reassured her, it made her all the more nervous. There were so many things she didn't know, she was completely unprepared, and to top it off she was rather horrid at defensive spells. How could Professor Toothill expect them to duel?  
  
No, she very well knew the answer to that. Everyone knew the Toothill family was probably one of the most exceptional in the wizarding world when it came to duelling, and had been for generations. The fact she wanted them to duel wasn't completely surprising, but it was still something Emmeline hadn't actually considered their being a possibility of. She'd thought they'd be learning about how to protect themselves from impish creatures, or one of the other topics in the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook her mother had spent a good sum on.  
  
But apparently not. Apparently the teacher wanted to share what was little more than a hobby (at least in Emmeline's mind) with the rest of the class.  
  
All she could hope was that she was paired up with someone she could easily defeat.  
  
“You look like you're going to throw up.” A voice suddenly said, rather loudly, rousing her from her thoughts. Emmeline glanced over, her eyes meeting the familiar gaze of Bertram Aubrey. His expression was serious, and unfortunately his voice had a habit of carrying, causing a couple of other Ravenclaws to glance back at them, before inching away slightly. Emmeline's hand shot out, whacking him softly in the ribcage as her cheeks pinkened. How humiliating.  
  
“Don't say things like that so loudly!” She hissed, at that moment (and not for the first time) wishing that Bertram would just leave her alone. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy his company occasionally, and it wasn't as though she didn't consider him a friend. She just wished she had more less embarrassing friends sometimes. Or even other friends. Either one would be nice, in her mind.  
  
Rolling his dull blue eyes, he threw an arm around her shoulders carelessly. He had a good three or four inches on her, and had discovered it rather easy to sling it around her. Attempting to shrug him off, Emmeline huffed softly as she realized it her efforts were futile. He was too strong, and too large for her to do much of anything about it. Grinning down at her, he pointed using the hand he had wrapped around her, and she followed his finger until she caught sight of Professor Toothill walking towards them.  
  
The sickeningly thin witch wore a tight smile that made her cheeks look a little too tight, and her skin a little too taut. Her nose was pointed, and her eyes were dark and small. Bertram pointed out on their first day of class that she looked like an overgrown pixie, and Emmeline couldn't help but agree. She looked over the students briefly, her gaze both excited and calculating at the same time, before she finally spoke.  
  
“Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I'm particularly excited for our lesson today. How about we jump right into it, hm?” She asked, hardly pausing a beat before launching into her 'lesson'. Emmeline thought she was pleasant enough, but far too wrapped up within her own interests. “Now, I'm going to require two students to help demonstrate for the rest of us.” Her gaze scanned the Gryffindor crowd, before landing on two students whose heads were close together, invested in a hushed conversation. Professor Toothill's smile tightened even more, if possible, before she spoke. “Mr. Black, thank you for volunteering.”  
  
Both of the students looked up, and Emmeline recognized them vaguely as James Potter, and Sirius Black. She didn't know them personally, but she's heard plenty of them and their little posse already. Sirius Black looked irritated for a moment, before leaning in and murmuring something to James, and then both boys grinned.  
  
“Any day now, Mr. Black.” Toothill remarked, lifting her eyebrows pointedly. Sirius Black looked like your average twelve year old- Emmeline bet he was hardly taller than herself, although his shaggy dark hair was in dire need of a haircut, and he wore the same sort of smile most kids from pureblood families seemed to share. Emmeline was unimpressed though, and merely returned her gaze to the professor, instantly regretting it as their gazes met. Toothill smiled at her, kindly enough. “Miss Vance! Perfect! Hurry up here, dear, we haven't got all day!”  
  
Emmeline couldn't move for a brief moment. She'd been dreading duelling day enough, but having to go up in front of the entire class to demonstrate was even worse. She tried to convey just how much she'd rather not with her expression, but Professor Toothill merely smiled on. _Oblivious as ever_ , Emmeline thought bitterly. In one last desperate attempt for help, or reassurance, or just something that would make the nervous knot within her stomach disappear, she glanced up at Bertram, who merely laughed aloud at her.  
  
“If you're going to throw up, wait until you get up there in front of everyone, okay?” He jested, although he said it loudly enough so that many of the students around them snickered. As Emmeline walked slowly up to the front of the class, she made a mental list of every awful word she knew, so that she could let Bertram know exactly what she thought of him as soon as she was finished. She dragged her feet as she approached Professor Toothill and Sirius, her cheeks burning. Her stomach was uneasy, and... what if she did throw up? Blasted Bertram, she'd curse him to Romania and back after this.  
  
She stopped once she reached her professor and opponent, who glanced at her only briefly before turning his light gaze back towards his fellow Gryffindors. He looked determined, but more than that, he looked smug. As though just by one simple glance, he could tell that he was already going to win.  
  
Toothill spoke loudly now, so that everyone could hear. “Your goal is simple. Using what you know, you're going to use magic – and only magic – to defeat your opponent. Your goal is to win, not to injure, so choose your spells wisely if you intend on getting a good grade. Now, in a formal duel, you'd need a second. Can anyone tell me why this is?” She asked, although as soon as she'd finished the question a voice called out from amongst the crowd.  
  
“To act as a replacement if needed.” Bertram called out, sounding as though he'd read the answer right from some sort of dueling textbook. He earned a curt nod from the professor. She was a stickler for raising hands, which was something Bertram had never had the patience to do. He smirked, pleased with himself, and Emmeline rolled her eyes.  
  
“Precisely. So, Mr. Black, Miss Vance, choose your seconds.” Toothill demanded, the unfaltering smile still in place.  
  
“James.” Sirius stated immediately, and his friend grinned as he made his way through the crowd, earning a clap or two on the back from some of the guys around him, as though it were some sort of big feat. Emmeline would never understand boys.  
  
“Bert.” Emmeline mumbled, more for lack of a better second. He truly was one of her only friends, and today she wished more than ever she'd made more. He'd already known she was going to choose him, and the confident grin he wore as he approached her only confirmed that. Once he was by her side, and James and Sirius were ready, Professor Toothill began speaking again.  
  
“Now, you two stand to the side,” Toothill paused briefly, waiting for the aforementioned seconds to step aside before continuing, “And now our duelist will approach one another, and bow to show their respect for one another.”  
  
Emmeline gave the professor a pleading sidelong glance, mentally begging her not to make her bow to the cocky boy before her. When it became obvious the older woman would show her no mercy, Emmeline sighed, and leaned froward in a curt bow. When she rose, Sirius merely gave her a short nod. Toothill gave him a look, but he still didn't make any move to bow to her, and it only made Emmeline dislike him all the more.  
  
Her mind worked quickly as her anxiety was building, and she was certain within that moment that she would make a fool of herself. She was wonderful when it came to Charms, but she'd never had need to practice many defensive spells. She couldn't imagine being able to win while hardly knowing how to protect herself.  
  
Her legs felt heavy as she proceeded to turn, and walk a safe distance away from him before the professor ordered her to turn once more. The combined classes were silent as they watched, and she imagined they'd all be eager to get their chance to cast hexes on one another without any repercussions. Facing Sirius, she met his gaze, and couldn’t shake the feeling he was staring right through her. She was nothing to him. He knew he would win.  
  
“Now, when I give the order, I want you both to begin...” Toothill instructed, before growing silent, more than likely trying to increase the tension. His gaze made Emmeline feel even smaller than she had before. He knew nothing of her, and already found her to be a poor opponent. Was it because she was a girl? Was it her house? What was it about her that told him he had a right to be smug, even before they'd even started? She saw him throw another complacent grin in James Potter's direction, and she hated it. She pointed her wand directly at him, and he positioned his wand in a manner that, while cool looking, would make it more difficult to flick his wrist.  
  
Her cheeks had grown pink whilst feeling the intensity of the other students gazes on them. All of them were watching. If she lost, in would be in front of everyone. Bertram. Her housemates. Sirius Black. James Potter. The Gryffindors. Her professor. She might have been a Ravenclaw, but she felt particularly dumb at that moment, her mind completely blank. She couldn't do this. She wasn't smart enough, nor strong enough. Powerful enough.  
  
“Destroy him, Emme!” The noise startled her, having expected Toothill to give them the okay, but instead it was Bertram's voice, shouting at her despite being well within hearing distance. He was instantly shushed, and Toothill took a moment to scold the boy, but it had been enough. Bertram's words filled her with a sudden unexpected lightness, as if the nerves coiled within her suddenly unraveled.  
  
“Now!”  
  
As soon as the professor spoke, Emmeline hardly had to think before her wand was swishing, and words seemed to pour from her mouth on their own.  
  
“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” She shouted, watching as his wand flew just barely out of reach. For a spell she'd never used before, she hadn't done so bad. He stared at her momentarily, his expression both a little surprised and annoyed, before he gathered his wits and reached for his wand quickly. Emmeline gave him a moment, not feeling it was fair to attack while he was unarmed. He launched a spell back at her as soon as his hand reached it.  
  
“ _Locomotor Mortis!_ ” Sirius called out, and she momentarily debated between attempting to think up a defensive spell or trying to get out of the way, but by the time she'd come to the decision to move she was struck, and literally couldn't move. Her legs were literally locked together, and wouldn't budge. She couldn't think up the counter curse, despite being positive she knew it. She could see he was ready to send another spell her way, and knew she had to move quickly.  
  
“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” She launched the spell hurriedly, nearly fumbling the words, and watched as his entire body seemed to freeze, arms and legs at his side stiffening, reminding her of a guard standing at attention. She felt his gray eyes on her, and could feel the animosity in his gaze as he realized there really was no way out of it. It wasn't until Bertram started clapping, and her house joined in with cheerful hollers that she realized she'd won. A surge of happiness shot through her, and she glanced over at the professor with a grin. Her legs were still locked, but the professor hurriedly freed both of them from their bindings.  
  
Emmeline wasted no time in hurrying back to join the rest of her class, feeling Bertram following close behind. A couple students congratulated her, and others began calling out to Professor Toothill, begging to go next.  
  
“I knew you could do it.” Bertram said, leaning down so that she could hear him over the other students hollering. He ruffled her hair in the way he sometimes did when he was trying to act brotherly, and Emmeline merely shoved his hand away, although she flashed him a proud smile.  
  
She couldn't stop herself from glancing back over in the direction of the Gryffindors. She caught sight of Sirius surrounded by a small group of three boys, looking less than thrilled. She recognized the boys, one being James Potter, though the other two she couldn't quite recall the names of. They all looked nearly as pleased as she felt, although admittedly a little more ornery.  
  
He glanced her direction then, his gray eyes catching her dark gaze. He seemed to study her for a moment, and while normally she might have been uncomfortable by the intensity of his gaze, she found herself feeling more satisfied, than anything. He was looking at her, rather than through her, and it made Emmeline feel a little less small than she had before. He tore his gaze away shortly after, though, smiling slightly as he murmured something softly to the three boys. Whatever he said made one of the boys glance her way, and she could see his amused expression falter slightly.  
  
While the possibility of her being talked about made her uncomfortable, Emmeline brushed it off, returning her attention to Professor Toothill, who had begun pairing up sets of students to alternate as duelists and seconds. She'd have more important things to worry about than the gossip of a sore loser.


End file.
